


want you more than a melody

by liesmith



Category: NoPixel, NoPixel RP, no pixel, no pixel rp
Genre: M/M, bobertti is real to only me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22871473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: he's a good cadet, this isn't fair, he earned riding soloorit's not his fault toretti's always getting kidnapped
Relationships: Bobby Smith/Domenic Toretti
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	want you more than a melody

Riding with Bobby felt the same as when Toretti would go home after school with a shitty report card and get that disappointed look from his parents. It sucked then, it sucked now. He was _fine_ riding solo but according to Bobby, it looked bad that the Chief of Police kept letting a cadet get kidnapped on his watch.

Surprised Bobby even cared that much.

They’re sitting a bit off the road near East Vinewood, Bobby lazily checking the speed of people as they go by. Toretti wants to say something about his hate boner for racers but being trapped in a tiny car won’t bode well if he gets Bobby raging over it. He just settles down in his seat a little, slumped just slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. It feels way too quiet; the beeping of the radar gun, Bobby’s even breathing, Toretti’s annoyed little huffs, traffic… that’s not enough to keep his thoughts at bay, to keep him from fidgeting in his seat to adjust his collar, mess with his sunglasses, stare longingly out the window…

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Toretti nearly jumps as he’s spoken too, looking a little sheepish as he turns his head to look at Bobby, who is smoking now, still beeping cars as he goes. “What? I’m good. Just waiting for something to happen.”

“You’re shakin’ the whole car. Stop moving.”

“I’m just getting comfortable!”

“Every ten seconds?”

“Yes,” Toretti mumbles, looking back out his window. What’s Bobbys fucking deal? Being chief sucks, he gets it, but doesn’t mean it has to be taken out on him.

“Look, you have nobody to blame but yourself,” Bobby drawls on, flicking ashes out his window as he looks at Toretti, just so over his sunglasses. Toretti glances over, briefly, and looks back away. The eyepatch is kind of intimidating. Feels like Bobby’s aged ten years after it. Guess accidents do that to people.

“Thanks, boss.”

“Don’t get pissy because I’m right. If you just paid attention, just an ounce of attention to anything around you, you wouldn’t be getting snatched like that.”

Toretti grits his teeth, squeezes his hands into fists, then uncurls them. Some sort of ‘calm down’ thing he read online. It doesn’t make him feel any better; he still kind of wants to punch Bobby square in his good eye.

That would get him fired, though. Being a solo cadet is all he can hold over some other cadet’s heads.

“Sometimes, sir,” Toretti starts, staring straight ahead out the windshield, the sound of traffic around them, “I’m trying to stop the crime, you know, and then, sometimes, they sneak up on us. What about Fulker last week? Taking Francis out like that? You didn’t get pissed at Francis for being blind to flankers.”

“Well,” Bobby clears his throat, flicking more ashes out the window as he takes a drag, “that was just fucking stupid, you’re right. We were all stupid that night. I let the heat of the moment get to me and I didn’t act the way I should have, as your chief. As, technically, your protector.”

Toretti opens his mouth for a biting remark, but he wilters a little at that. Bobby admitting to being at fault kind of… feels nice. He clears his throat, feeling heat rise a little to his cheeks. “It’s… fine, I know I have to pay attention. I just get… focused. I want it to end with as few casualties as possible and I let it get ahead of me. I’ll… be better, Bobby. Promise.”

“You don’t have to promise me anythin’. Just do it next time.”

“... Yes, sir.”

“Stop sounding like a kicked puppy, too. Makes me feel sad. Not for you, Toretti, but for myself for letting you still be a cadet. A solo cadet, too. Who cleared that? I should get them a psych eval.”

Asshole.

“Uhhuh,” Toretti mumbles out, eyes rolling as he looks back out his window. Bobby’s saying something else, but his mind is totally elsewhere. Ignoring Bobby isn’t hard; the southern drawl is so easy to drone out, and Toretti let’s his mind wander. He thinks of the past few days, of the shootout with Fulker and his gaggle of idiots, of routine traffic stops, of the reports he still hasn’t finished. Of how nice Bobby smells, the smoke and cologne mixing pleasantly. The way Bobby looks handsome, even when Toretti’s getting chewed out by him, how he looks so tired now. Being chief must suck; Toretti isn’t envious at that one bit.

Toretti thinks, too, of kissing Bobby. Sometimes when they’re alone and after he gets yelled at for a few minutes, told to fuck off and get out of his face, he just kind of wants to grab those stars and pull Bobby forward, and -

“Are you listenin’ to me?” Bobby’s hands are on his shirt, giving an annoyed tug like a dog trying to get attention from its owner. Toretti feels warmth rise again to his cheeks, looking back at Bobby, “are you zoned out, Toretti? What the hell? We’re working, do you do this on your own? Should I revoke your solo status right now, for real?”

“Jesus! Bobby, chill,” Toretti pushes his hands away, giving a small glare, “I was just thinking about stuff. I have reports I gotta finish, alright? I was just thinking about those.”

“Your reports are dogshit. Don’t even bother,” Bobby settles back down into his seat, still beeping cars as they go by, though not as frequently now. Everyone in the city probably knows they’re sitting here like little baby ducks, just fucking around, “what am I going to do with you, Toretti?”

“... I’m a good cop,” Toretti answers, kind of pathetically. He never gets anywhere arguing with Bobby like this, even before he was chief, but something still fuels him to snip back, “just because I fuck up sometimes does-”

“Sometimes?” Bobby laughs, banging his hand on the steering wheel, “that’s the funniest fucking joke I’ve ever heard, Toretti! Sometimes! Sometimes you fuck up!”

“Fuck you,” Toretti seethes, turning in his seat to face Bobby better, “I’m one of the best cadets you have, sir. Just because you’re too stubborn and have your head up your ass doesn’t mean I’m not!

“You talkin’ back to your chief, Toretti?”

That should knock the wind out of him. He could easily get suspended for this for whatever reason Bobby throws down on the books but he can’t find it easy to care. Toretti just stares at Bobby who is pulling out his pack of cigarettes, as if he just didn’t finish one, and… Toretti swats it out of his hand.

They both stare as the pack hits Bobby’s lap.

When Bobby looks back up at him, Toretti knows he should absolutely run or grovel or something, but instead, he grabs those stars, presses his mouth to Bobby’s slightly open one. In all his years, this is easily Toretti’s worst idea; kissing his superior who can easily ruin him in a wink and a smile.

Instead, Bobby… almost yields to him, moving in his own seat and turning towards Toretti, and… responds. Kisses him back like it’s nothing, a hand reaching up to run through the short, dirty blond hair. This touch startles him enough that Toretti pulls back, staring at Bobby, and… Bobby, he just looks unphased. Like he kisses his officers all the time.

“You done having your outburst?”

Toretti turns bright red. “W-What?!”

“You good?”

“... Bobby, don’t fire me.”

“I’m not gonna fire you,” Bobby sighs, the hand in Toretti’s hair flexing before giving it a small pat, smoothing back a few stray hairs, “but you’ve got big fuckin’ balls to be kissing anyone like that, but especially your chief.”

“I know,” Torett feels comforted, almost, by the touch. Bobby’s hand is warm and heavy, nails just sharp enough to feel good, “I… I just did it. I wanted to.”

“Seems like you make a lot of bad life decisions.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t start,” Bobby laughs, reaching up with his free hand to squeeze Toretti’s cheeks a little, clearly teasing the cadet, “easy, little pup. Get back in your seat.”

Toretti grunts, swatting at Bobby’s hand on his mouth as he settles back down in his seat, quickly putting his sunglasses on. They offer him no protection from his shame, but it makes him feel better when he does it. Just a little bit better. Bobby just picks his fallen cigarettes back up, shaking one out of the pack and lighting it up between his lips. Toretti inhales the smoke from the first drag, looking at Bobby from the corners of his eyes.

“You are a good cadet, Dom,” Bobby saying his name like that makes Toretti want to die. It’s way too foreign on Bobby’s mouth, and that it’s paired with a compliment… Toretti looks away, heart hammering in his chest, “you just do stupid things that puts the rest of us in danger. I want you to succeed, I really do. I just want you to also stop being an idiot.”

Toretti looks back out towards the window, giving a small nod. “Yes, sir. I’ll do better.”

“And work on your timing with trying to kiss me. I had my mouth open, Toretti. Next time, try to wait until I’m done yelling at you.”

Toretti covers his face with his hands while Bobby laughs beside him.

Fuck riding with someone else. He’d rather get kidnapped every hour on the hour then this fresh hell he created for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> hold your chill yall. don't show them. read this and continue on with your life. thank you very much.
> 
> bobertti is my life. visit me @ cadettitoretti on twitter if you wanna chat about anything


End file.
